


Try Not To Bore Me

by RedPlush



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Edging, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Jim Moriarty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedPlush/pseuds/RedPlush





	Try Not To Bore Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anarfea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarfea/gifts).



“I don’t need to get you off, Sherlock. I don’t care if you never get off. It’s boring. I’d rather watch you squirm.”

Moriarty had held Sherlock captive for hours, bringing him to the edge and then leaving him whimpering and wanting. 

He had Sherlock low on his knees, spread wide, forehead pressed into the side of the mattress. His sweat and saliva soaked the sheets and his thighs had long ago given out. His ankles and wrists had been tied, untied, and then bound again more tightly. 

Moriarty had slid inside him with two fingers, then three. Then a long taper, the curved handle of a sheathed knife, a couple other things he’d found at Sherlock's bedside with vaguely appropriate dimensions. He never once touched any other part of Sherlock, just growled commands as he pumped into him slowly, deeply.

Sherlock had finally grown quiet, his whines fading to huffing breaths. His sweat was cooling and chilling him when he felt fingertips stroking the back of his neck. His skin prickled up in goosebumps at the unexpected, almost tender touch. There was hot breath at his ear.

“Okay, clever boy. Try not to bore me.”

Moriarty's fingers snaked around his throat, angling his head back. Sherlock rose up on his knees, arching his back.

“I won’t,” he rumbled. “Now fuck me. _Please._ ”

The desperation, the little break in his _please_ was just what Moriarty wanted to hear. He felt something in his chest flutter as he gripped Sherlock's throat tighter and brought his leaking cock to his wet, open hole. He slid in slowly. It was so hot and perfect he wanted to cry out. Sherlock pushed back against him and moaned softly. Moriarty rested a moment, fully seated, feeling Sherlock’s clenching heat. When he began to move his hips, he went from deep, precise stroking to wild pounding in moments. He grabbed Sherlock’s hip and sunk his fingers into the smooth white skin of his throat to steady himself. So many hours of torture and edging had filled them both with a violent hunger. Sherlock came first, with a low moan that turned to a choked howl. Moriarty fucked into him with a few more angry strokes before he stiffened and came in hot spurts inside Sherlock, then pulled out to shoot the last of it across his back.

Sherlock collapsed forward, head on his arms, limp. Moriarty cracked his neck and slapped Sherlock’s ass

“You never disappoint. You perfect thing.”


End file.
